530.Is this… the right thing to do….
Park Seong-jin stood atop a high pavilion roof at the northern edge of the palace's core and widened his perception.
The tiles beneath his feet were cold with the night's breath.
The wind chimes at the eaves trembled with the faintest sound.
"If an anomaly flares, I'll go down and settle it at once."
His mind was firm.
Yet the stirrings rising from every direction tested that firmness.
At first, they read like the momentum of revolt, and he rushed straight toward them.
When he arrived, an elderly official was weeping helplessly before his desk.
"W–what work will I do now… how will I feed my children…."
The surge he had sensed was neither rage nor rebellion, but a wave of despair.
When Seong-jin swallowed a sigh and turned back, another pulse burst elsewhere.
He ran again, only to find an official collapsed against a wall, sobbing.
"A resignation letter…?"
"Is this… the right thing to do…."
"Sniff… sob…."
It was noisier than a band of battlefield brigands.
He spread his perception wider, but all that returned were residual ripples—
a muddle of tears, anger, and fear.
The air inside the palace soaked up emotion like wet cotton, then released it in small, uneven waves.
Pathetic….
Park Seong-jin cut his energy at the base of his throat.
If he stripped away their hats, the shapes revealed by perception were like sallow old men standing naked before a bathhouse.
The cruelty seen through perception cut deeper than anything the eyes could see,
because what boiled there was a single, clotted will—to survive.
Feeling stifled, Seong-jin sought out Song I-sul, who held the western sector.
"Anything unusual here?"
Song I-sul reported calmly.
"Those who've heard the court news are restless."
"Palace servants with ties to the officials."
"Some try to step outside, others carry word deeper into the inner palace."
"Overall, it's quiet."
"And the guards?"
"The female warriors inside haven't all been checked yet."
"If we push into the inner palace, the noise will grow."
Seong-jin summoned the palace eunuch and called in all the female guards.
Moments later, sword-bearing women lined up.
Seong-jin examined them one by one—eyes, breath, the strength at the wrist.
The habit of hiding one's body revealed itself there.
He matched faces with his detachment and received reports on their positions.
Then Seong-jin raised a hand.
"Anyone here know Aunt So-eun?"
The unexpected question stirred a murmur among the women.
A few exchanged recognizing looks.
Someone swallowed a laugh; someone else gave the tiniest nod.
Seong-jin said brightly,
"She's at our house now."
"Could someone tell me how she was here?"
At that moment, Song I-sul grabbed Seong-jin's wrist from behind.
"Sir—what are you doing."
He dragged the unguarded Seong-jin out, hauling him east and shoving him toward Hoegyeongjeon.
Seong-jin flew briefly through the air.
"Oo—what?!"
He twisted and landed lightly, dislodging no more than a pinch of dust from the tiles.
From a distance came Song I-sul's shout.
"Hey!!"
"Please stop embarrassing yourself!!!"
Seong-jin hunched his shoulders.
"Ah… yes…. What was I thinking. So—uh—"
When he slunk back, several of the female guards bowed, suppressing smiles.
Their shoulders shook just a little.
Song I-sul scowled deeply.
"Captain Park. Please maintain your dignity. We're on rebellion watch."
Seong-jin scratched his head.
"Yes… understood…."
Thus, in a night taut with tension, a brief farce passed.
Seong-jin pretended not to notice that it had softened the palace air, if only for a moment.
That same night, the Office for Rectifying Lands and People was established.
Not as a slogan or a name, but as a functioning engine of reform set in motion within the palace.
Yoon Dam addressed the first assembled working staff with only a brief explanation.
Yet that explanation froze the officials' thinking at once.
"This time, the target is everyone."
"Everyone?"
"All major landholders."
A short silence fell across the hall.
Even reorganizing the wealth of a few politicians was a heavy task;
to take on the entire class of large landowners meant remaking the country's land structure from the ground up.
Several officials were struck dumb on the spot.
"Everyone…?"
"Is that possible?"
"My lord, there is no precedent…."
"Does reform require precedent?"
Yoon Dam showed neither fatigue nor agitation.
His voice, calm as if sorting documents, rang through the hall.
"The procedures have been standardized."
"Proceed in order."
"Even if it takes time, complete it."
On the table lay three core lists, neatly arranged.
Major Landholder Registry
– Names of owners
– Initial acquisition dates
– Paths of land accumulation
– Questionable transfers
Ownership Change Records
– Purchase routes
– Wartime acquisitions
– Transfers disguised as gifts
Servile Status Comparison Rolls
– Official state registers
– Clan-held rosters
– Traces of unlawful status deprivation
As more than a hundred staff gathered, Yoon Dam laid out the procedures—concise, cold.
"Land by this list."
"Ownership by this process."
"Status checks by this method."
Every step was designed to leave no room for emotion or compromise.
The officials' reactions swelled; low murmurs spread.
"They really mean all of it."
"Most of these names are powerful clans."
"This shakes the entire gentry."
"Who will be left standing?"
Nearly half the staff lost color in their faces.
All knew that once touched, this work would set the whole country swaying.
Yoon Dam hardened his voice.
"Illegality will be corrected."
"Those stripped of status by force will be restored."
"The standards will not change."
As the words fell, the hall's tension resembled the dawn before battle.
Yoon Dam added,
"If force is needed, request it."
"The army will accompany you."
At the word army, the air grew another degree colder.
Late that night, the king himself appeared to explain the reasons for the measures and the outline of the work.
He asked them to take up the task with a sense of duty.
Where a king asks, refusal does not reach.